


A Long Journey Home

by Bryn_Delgado



Series: Champion's live [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hobbit Courting, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Magic, Not Beta Read, Overprotective Dwarves, Scars, Soul Bond, Tags May Change, Tattoos, Telepathy, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryn_Delgado/pseuds/Bryn_Delgado
Summary: After defeating Azog's army, life in the Erebor slowly begins to improve. The royals are healing from their wounds, the councilors are already beginning to drive the King and the young princes mad and recovery work is underway in the Mountain. For the first time in many years, an Alliance has been established between humans, elves and dwarrow. So why is the rightful heir to the throne, Prince Fili, so unhappy? Maybe he is bothered by an old injury? He was seen countless times rubbing his wrist with a thoughtful expression on his face. And who is the mysterious burglar that the King's Company talks so much and yet so little about?---Iribella Baggins returned to the Shire in the middle of winter with several companions. They stayed indoors for almost two weeks, and when the doors finally opened, it was only so that one of Iribella’s strange friends could go shopping. The lass herself was not seen. Is she even here? And what is that strange glow that comes out of Bag End at night? Why all those dwarves and Man, singly and in groups, began to enter the Shire and asking about the traveling hobbit? What kind of adventure did Iribella get involved in this time?
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Bilbo Baggins/Fíli, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Thorin Oakenshield & Thorin's Company
Series: Champion's live [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761121
Comments: 11
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter one: In which Dis meets her future daughter in-law

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the second part of the Champion's live. You know me, I post irregularly about as often as the cheesecake fairy scratches a magic tooth-crushing teacup. But we got carried away. A new chapter will be posted every two weeks, most likely on Thursdays. If I'm late, it means the fairy couldn't stand the dreadful singing any longer and broke the cup and I have to glue it back together. Anyway, enjoy the story)
> 
> Disclaimer: As usual, I do not own anything all rights on the universe and characters belong to its rightful owners.

Dis regarded the street her group was passing with interest and a hint of curiosity. Dwarrow were not frequent visitors to Hobbiton and very few of them would be bothered to share a description of this unusual town.

The town was reached by an elegant stone bridge. Dis couldn’t help but notice the skill with which it was made. Narrow cobbled streets had branched into well-trodden paths that intertwined with each other. She could see a lot of vast green fields with many green plants that Dis couldn’t tell the name of. Hobbits seemed to love nature just as much as elves. If not more, judging by the sheer number of well-tended gardens near their homes.

And the buildings themselves were amazing. So far, Dis noticed only a few houses that were made in some resemblance of Man’s. The others were a little confusing. It was as if they were all grown inside the hills. All that was visible was the front wall, with a round door painted in some bright color – usually yellow or green – and a few windows here and there. Everything else was hidden under a layer of grass.

The Hobbits themselves met the dwarrow quite amiably. Everyone passing by greeted them with a friendly smile. A few little hobbits even came closer to ask about their weapons. Young Gimli was fast to start explaining the pros and cons of wielding an axe, to no one’s surprise. Dis only chuckled at his enthusiasm. Of course, some hobbits were whispering behind the dwarrow’s backs but Dis had long since stopped caring about this small aspect.

But for all their friendliness, none of the hobbits seemed to be able to answer their questions properly. They listened, smiled and then pointed their hands in some direction, giving the dwarrow a bunch of completely unhelpful instructions on how to reach their destination. One said they should go to the end of the street, turn left at old Lilly’s house, then go up along drinker Rondo street and then just go ahead, Bag End would be on the right. But the next hobbit they asked when they came up, shook their head and exclaimed that they were in a wrong place. “This is baker Torry street,” they explained, “you need the next one. Follow this path and then go down. It is impossible to get lost from there.” They said with a laugh. “Good evening.” They bowed and were off in a moment. The dwarrow shared a look. Dis sighed and turned her pony around.

“Blasted hobbits.” Gimli muttered under his breath. “Who builds towns in a spiral? And in an uneven spiral with a bunch of small spirals extending from it. How do they not get lost here themselves?” He groused, glaring at the small hill they had passed at least three times in the last hour.

His mother, Thâris, merely shook her head, her beard flailing in the wind. “Do not be so dour, **inùdoy**. Remember, hobbits are different. I’m sure it will be just as hard for them to find their way in the Mountain as for us right now.” She said placatingly, looking around in search of a green door. Gimli scowled.

“I still think they should have at least made some pointers.” He grumbled and earned himself a slap on the back of his head from his mother. The rest of the dwarrow laughed at his mortified ‘Ma!’

Dis briefly looked over her group, checking in case someone got separated. But all dwarrow were accounted for. Her adviser Lofar was riding next to her. Two guards – Oínur and Regi – were quietly whispering, surveying the street with suspicion, as if waiting for someone to jump out of the nearby bush. Dis scowled a bit at their paranoia. It was visible that these parts had never seen violence, save for an occasional drunk brawl. Gimli, son of Gloin, was arguing with his mother. At first, Dis wasn’t sure if she should have let him accompany them. But the young dwarf defended his position so fiercely, that she gave in. Besides, this way he would be constantly in sight, which, hopefully, would prevent him from getting into trouble. If not, well, Dis had taken Thâris with them for a reason.

So lost in her musings, Dis did not notice a hobbit who appeared seemingly out of nowhere, until they called: “Excuse me?” Dis stopped her pony and looked down at the hobbit.

He (Dis assumed it was a male. Hobbits were very similar to each other and did not have beards. ‘I wonder if this is how the other races feel in the presence of the dwarrow’ she thought) looked like any other hobbit they had seen through the day. His short, dark curly hair was covered by a small hat. He was dressed light, despite it being only early spring. (Although, it was rather warm in these parts.) He wore a light-yellow shirt with elbow-length sleeves, brown vest and trousers which ended just below his knees. He had large hairy feet and was not wearing any kind of boots. He had a suck slung over his right shoulder and he watched the dwarrow with openness and a bit of cation.

Seeing that he had attracted their attention, the hobbit smiled and bowed slightly. “Good evening, Master Dwarf.” He greeted. Dis tilted her head. For the first time today, a hobbit addressed them correctly. Meanwhile, the hobbit continued: “I could not help but notice that you seem to be a little lost. The Shire can be confusing, especially for a first-time traveler. My, even Gandalf the Gray got lost here twice or thrice.” The hobbit laughed. He looked from Lofar to Regi. “I was wondering if you need any help. I can guide you to your destination.” He offered, still smiling. Dis glanced subtly at Lofar and nodded.

“We will be very grateful if you help us, Mister...?” Lofar said, walking his pony a bit forward.

Suddenly, the hobbit slapped his forehead. “Oh, there are my manners? My ma would have boxed my ears for that. Please, forgive me this slight.” He took off his head and bowed again. “Hamfast Gamgee, at your service, Master Dwarf.” He straightened up, put his hat back and looked at the group again. “What are you looking for?”

Dis kicked her pony, coming closer to the Hobbit. “We’re looking for the Bag End.” She said and watched with a frown how the hobbit’s eyes narrowed as he took her in.

“The Bag End you say… I would have though your sibling told you the way.” He replied, his tone changing from friendly to wary. Oínur and Regi subtly placed their hands on the hilts of their weapons. Lofar stiffened on top of his pony.

Dis’ expression stayed perfectly calm. She raised an eyebrow at the hobbit. “My sibling?”

Hamfast nodded once. “Forgive me if I am mistaken. But you see, there was a dwarf who passed by a year ago and he bore a strong resemblance to you.” He squinted at Dis. “Although, I believe he was quite a bit taller.” The hobbit murmured.

The princess inched her head. “Did the dwarf you are talking about happen to wear a long fur coat?” She questioned. Hamfast nodded. “When it was indeed my brother you’ve seen.” Her words seemed to calm the hobbit a bit.

“And you are here because?” He asked and Gimli exploded.

“The matters of dwarrow is no business of yours.” He told the hobbit hotly. Hamfast narrowed his eyes and raised his chin.

“I assure you, Master Dwarf, anything that concerns Miss Iribella’s safety is my business.” The hobbit replied flatly. Dis cut in before Gimli could say something to insult their newfound source of information.

“I can swear to you, Mr. Hamfast that we have no intention to hurt Miss Iribella in any way. We just want to talk to her.” Dis assured him. The hobbit eyed her, clearly considering her words. He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“I apologize for my outburst.” He said finally. “A lot of people have been wanting to see Miss Iribella lately.” These words made the dwarrow tense up. Hamfast gave them a look. “The Rangers had to take a company of dwarrow, who came last, out on a cart.” Lofar frowned.

“On a cart? Why?” He questioned. Hamfast huffed, righting the slipping sack on his shoulder.

“They did not have good intentions and would not take ‘no’ for an answer. Thus, Master Jor was forced to deal with them.” He shared with a group. Gimli frowned.

“But why did they even come here?” He wondered. Hamfast shook his head.

“I cannot tell you. Now, if you truly mean no ill for Miss Bell, please, follow me.” He turned around and started walking down the street. Dis shared a glance with Lofar and they kicked their ponies, proceeding after the hobbit.

Ten minutes later they stopped on a narrow path in front of a lovely looking garden. Hamfast confidently walked to the fence, opened the gate, went up to the porch, and knocked on the door. Dis dismounted, coming closer just in time to see the door open. But it was not a hobbit lass who opened the door. It was a dwarf. A very familiar looking dwarf. Dis glanced at Gimli, whose mouth fell open as his eyes roamed over the dwarf and smirked. This meeting was going to be fun.

Without paying much attention to the dwarrow he had brought, Hamfast greeted the dwarf. “Master Jor! Apologies for the late visit, but I came across this company and they expressed a wish to see Miss Iribella, so I guided them here.” He explained with an easy smile. Jórundur looked over his shoulder, quickly examining them. His gaze fell on Dis and he sighed.

“I knew one of you Durins will come sooner or later.” He said to no one in particular. And then glared at Dis. “Was a message too much to ask for?” Jórundur complained, dropping his hands on his hips.

“We were not sure where to send it.” Dis admitted with a tilt of her head. “And we didn’t know if our letter would find anyone.” Jórundur rolled his eyes, snorting.

“Excuses and evasions, that’s what I hear.” He grumbled, turning around and stepping back into the house. He looked at them over his shoulder. “Well? You lot are coming or do you prefer sleeping on the grass?”

Hamfast had already disappeared into the house. Dis could hear his voice as he talked to someone, hopefully it would be the wayward lass.

Jórundur let Lofar, Oínur and Regi pass and stopped Dis with a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve grown into such a beauty, **iraknana’dith**. There was not a day I haven’t missed you.” He murmured softly, smiling tenderly at her. Dis felt her own features soften.

“I’ve missed you too, **iraknadad**.” She whispered and rested her forehead on his.

Jórundur leaned back a bit and turned his attention to Gimli and Thâris. “Blimey, you must be Gimli, son of Gloin.” He exclaimed, thumping the dwarf on his back with a loud laugh. “Yer da told me all about you. And about you, the incomparable Thâris.” Jórundur said with a wink, bowed and placed a kiss on Thâris’ hand. “There are no words in any language that could convey your beauty.” Thâris gave him a charming smile, while Gimli groaned.

“Please, do not flirt with my mother.” He moaned, hands hiding his face. Jórundur rolled his eyes and threw his arm over Gimli’s shoulders.

“Remember, a compliment is not a flirtation. And a beauty like your mother deserves not just compliments, but whole ballads written in her honor.” Jórundur lectured, steering Gimli into the house. Dis and Thâris shared a glance, amused by Jórundur’s teasing and moved after him.

Dis studied the hallway they were in. There were coat hooks on the wall to the right. To the left was a chest, and next to it a weapon stand on which hung two bows with quivers, one much smaller than the other, a hammer, an axe, a sword and a strange dagger. Under Jórundur’s hard stare, Lofar, Oínur and Regi stripped their weapons and placed them down on the stand, grumbling under their breath. Gimli, Thâris and Dis followed suit. Jórundur also made them take off their boots, claiming that: “Bell will skin me alive if I let you lot drag mud all over her floors.” Then he led them into the house, giving them an impromptu tour along the way naming the rooms they passed: “Oak hall, spare room, smoking room, parlour, atrium, dining room and kitchen. Bathroom is that way and that’s all yer lot need to know for now.” He said absently and stepped into the kitchen.

There were two people sitting at the table. Even though it was a little low for them, they looked quite comfortable. A woman dressed in a tunic and leggings sat in a chair to the left. Her chestnut hair was braided and slung over her left shoulder. There was a deep curved scar on her left cheek. And a person sitting across from her... Dis blinked, but the spell didn’t go away. At the table sat an elf and he was laughing at something that his companion had said. Hamfast fussed at the stove, chatting about tomatoes. The scene seemed a little unreal.

It became weirder when Jórundur strolled casually toward the elf, sat down on the chair next to him and wrapped his arm around his waist. The elf smiled briefly at him and tilted his head to watch the newcomers.

“Greetings, honorable Dwarrow of Erebor. My name is Hgrodrom,” the elf started, “this is Lyramein,” he gestured at the woman who nodded and folded her arms but said nothing. The elf continued: “Would you like to dine with us?” He inched his head, gaze dancing from one dwarf to another.

Dis bowed her head a little. “Well met, Hgrodrom, Lady Lyramein.” She said slowly. These people were in Thorin’s burglar house and neither Jórundur nor Hamfast seemed concerned. And Thorin had mentioned something about Jórundur’s companions and his One. Was it this woman? Anyway, all that meant Dis could trust them. At least until proven overwise. “My name is Dis, daughter of Frís. My companions – Gimli, son of Gloin; Thâris, daughter of Sonis; Lofar, son of Warto; Oínur, daughter of Jiira and Regi, son of Borgi.” Every dwarf bowed when their name was called. Dis looked straight at Jor. “We are here on behalf of my brother – Thorin Oakenshield. He aske-”

“Dis, **haban** , can you please drop all these formalities?” Jórundur interrupted her, groaning. “We’re among friends here.” He grumbled. “And anyway, Bell’s not here yet. By the way,” he said abruptly, glancing up at Hgrodrom with a scowl, “why the hell did ya let her outta the dratted house?”

The elf shrugged. Dis absently noticed the way Gimli’s eyes budged out. “You know how she gets when she’s coped in one place for too long.” Hgrodrom replied easily, taking a sip from his cup. “Besides,” he added (and did Dis’ eyes got a worse turn or did the elf just smirk?) “Dai keeps an eye on her.” Jórundur bristled.

“Dai- oh, this knowledge will surely make me sleep easier.” He drawled sarcastically, huffing up at the elf. “Have you forgotten the last time already?” He asked incredulously.

Hgrodrom rolled (rolled! Something in Dis’ worldview shattered) his eyes and placed the cup on the table with an audible clink. “You seem to forget that our hobbit is an adult now. Also,” he paused, pretending to think, “I’m sure I heard something about this little fact that she could take out a Warg pack without breaking a sweat.” Jórundur scowled at Hgrodrom’s word and crossed his arms.

“Not in her current condition.” He uttered stubbornly. Hgrodrom sighed.

He was about to say something, when Lyramein loudly put her cup on the table. The pair synchronically turned their heads in her direction. Lyramein raised an eyebrow, the rest of her face stayed perfectly still. She nodded at Dis and seemed to sent some kind of message with her eyes only. Hgrodrom nodded. He smiled apologetically at the dwarrow. “Please, forgive us, we got a little carried away. Let’s move to the dining room.” He lowered his voice and a hint of mirth flashed in those piercing gray eyes. “I don’t know if you are aware, but the hobbits are excellent cooks.” He shared with a smile and stood up, leading the way.

After a hearty meal that Dis would rather call a feast (seriously how much did hobbits eat?) they moved into the smoking room. Hgrodrom said that he had no idea when Iribella would come back, so there was not much to do but wait. He and Lyramein stayed to take care of the dishes, declining the offered help. “Please, do not worry about it. You are the guests here.” Hgrodrom assured. Then he scrunched his nose. “Besides, I cannot stand the smell.” He admitted almost sheepishly and ushered the dwarrow (and Hamfast) out of the room.

Dis was watching Jórundur. She had only vague memories about him and now was comparing them with the image in front her eyes. He was older, steadier and more confident in himself. He was sitting calmly in the chair, seemingly relaxed, but Dis could see the way he watched the room, aware of every move. He was a seasoned warrior, not to be joked with.

“What’s it?” He asked gruffly, puffing a smoke ring. Arching an eyebrow at Dis’ confusion, Jórundur chucked. “I’ve known you all yer life, **iraknana’dith.** You always wrinkle your nose a bit when you have something on yer mind.” Dis shook her head, a small smile quirked up her lips.

“I was wondering about you actually.” She admitted, lighting up her own pipe. Narrowing her eyes, Dis inched her head. “I have not seen you since before Azanulbizar. And even then, you spent more time with Dwalin and Thorin than me.” The dwarrowdam accused lightly. Jórundur huffed.

“That I did.” He murmured. His gaze become distant and he leaned back into the chair. “What do you want to know?” He asked finally. Dis tilted her body forward.

“Iribella Baggins.” She started in a mild tone. Jórundur did not react visibly but Dis could feel him tense up slightly. “Both my brother and my son claim her to be Fili’s One.” Jórundur inched his head, still silent. Dis pressed forward. “They seem to believe it. But I have not heard about any dwarf whose One belonged to a different race.” With each her word Jórundur’s calmness slowly ebbed away, leaving only careful blankness in its wake. He slowly lowered his pipe, putting it off.

“What are you saying?” The dwarf asked evenly. But his voice had a dangerous edge. Although, it did not scare Dis.

She looked Jórundur straight in the eyes. “I do not wish to offend anyone, much less one of Thorin’s Company.” A loud yell cut her off. The pair of dwarrow watched Gimli and Regi jump from their chairs, ready to start fighting right here and now. Thâris was having none of it. She snatched the pair by their ears and dragged them out of the room, cursing their stupidity. Dis shook her head and returned her attention to Jórundur. “Where were we?” She wondered out loud. “Oh, right.” Dis absently tapped her nails on the arm of the chair. “In his letter, Thorin mentioned that you are her friend.” She recalled. “I would like to hear about her. What is she like? Why did she choose to join my brother’s mad quest? From what I’ve heard and seen, halflings are not very keen of travels and journeys.” Dis tilted her head in curiosity.

Jórundur was quiet for a long moment. He was watching the dancing fire in the fireplace. “First of all,” he spoke lowly, “never call them ‘halflings’.” Dis blinked dazedly at him. The red-headed dwarf chuckled. “They won’t tell ya, too polite the lot of them, well,” He paused, winking at Dis, “if ya don’t count Bell, of course, but it’s considered rather rude. Pretty much like calling us naugrims.” Dis frowned and made a mental note to made sure all dwarrow in her company knew it. Jórundur nodded to himself, taking a deep inhale from his pipe. “As for Bell… the lass is like a little sister to me. I watched her grow up and participated in the process, as much as I could. She’s a feisty little thing, with sharp knives and even sharper wit. She is always ready to defend those in need. Despite all the horrors she had lived through, she is amazingly kind. She can even pity her enemy.” He laughed at the look of mild surprise on Dis’ face. “I will never forget the fright I felt when she brought a wounded Warg pup to the camp. The damn animal followed us for the next ten years until it finally died.” Jórundur shook his beard in soundless laughter. “But she’s absolutely ruthless in battle…” The dwarf trailed off.

Dis hummed. “You almost sound like Gloin.” She teased lightly, smirking when Jórundur rolled his eyes and huffed. “Really, should I be worried about you getting a couple of little ones of your own sometime soon?” Dis laughed but unexpectedly, the mirth dimmed in Jórundur’s eyes.

He slowly shook his head. “Nah… no little ones for us. I doubt there will be someone willing to be adopted by such a strange pair.” Dis frowned.

“What do you mean?” In all their brief stay here, Jórundur had given no indication that any of his companions were his One. Maybe they were not here right now? Rumor has it there were four Sentinels. Dis knew for sure that Jórundur was a Sentinel, Thorin wrote as much. She was not sure about other members but could made an educated guess that Lyramein and Hgrodrom were Sentinels too. But who was the last? Could they be Jórundur’s One? Hgrodrom had mentioned someone named Dai…

A snort had torn Dis from her musings. “Thorin did not tell ya? Figures.” Jórundur rubbed his forehead and grinned like a boy twice younger than him. “You see, most consider a friendship between an elf and a dwarf to be a fairytale. But to hear about a courting pair…” Jórundur grinned and turned his head to Dis. A thick braid with a single wooden bead was tucked behind his left ear. Dis stared dumbly at it.

“That’s… not that I expected.” Dis said carefully, keeping her surprise from showing. “But I believe congratulations are in order. Hgrodrom seems to be quite a nice fellow.” She finished with a sincere smile. “Easy on the eyes too.” Dis added with a wink and Jórundur barked out a sharp laugh, slapping his knee.

“Yer still a menace. And the boys are wondering where they’ve got their prankster streak.” Jórundur mock scolded. He reached out for Dis’ hand and startled then the front door opened with a loud bang.

“Mista Jow, Mista Jow!” A ringing young voice called out, anxious. Jórundur sprang to his feet and in a moment was kneeling before a tiny hobbit in the hall. Dis scanned the hall for danger, found nothing suspicious and focused on the little boy. He looked no older than ten years old, dressed in a brown plaid knee-length pants, a gray long-sleeve shirt, a dark vest, and a gold neckerchief. The kid was breathing heavily, as if he had been running for a long time and now could not even out his breath.

“What’s it, Saradoc?” Jórundur questioned the kid after he stopped wheezing. Saradoc gestured wildly at the street, huge brown eyes zeroed in on the dwarf in front of him.

“Missus Bell! She’s in twouble!” The hobbit cried out. Dis furrowed her brow. It’s been a long time since she had spoken to a child so young. It was difficult to understand him. But it seemed Jórundur did not have the same problem. His gaze hardened instantly and he threw a worried look over his shoulder at Hgrodrom. “Pwease, help!” The kid exclaimed, his eyes watering. Jórundur put his hands on the hobbit’s shoulders.

“Peace, lad. Take a deep breath, yeah, that’s right.” He soothed the kid. “Now, who and where?”

Saradoc sniffled, wiped his nose with his sleeve and said: “Missus ‘Belia. Mawcet- Mewcet-” The kit struggled to get the word out, huffing in frustration.

“The Marketplace?” Hgrodrom prompted gently. The boy beamed at him and nodded eagerly. He grabbed Jórundur’s hand and tugged him in the door’s direction.

“Come on! Let’s go!” He urged, scowling at the adults. Jórundur swiftly put on his boots and ran out of the house, Saradoc safely perched on his shoulders. Hgrodrom and Lyramein opted to stay back, stating that their presence would only make hobbits worried. Reluctantly, Regi, Thâris and Lofar agreed with that logic and decided to stay too. Gimli outright refused to be left behind. He crossed his arms and scowled at Dis. And a glare Oínur gave Dis was telling for itself. Dis sighed inwardly but nodded. The three dwarrow soon followed Jórundur’s quickly disappearing figure.

Ten minutes later they were there. The Marketplace was crowded. The hobbits did not stand still, pretending that they were in the market on business and not to eavesdrop, but failed completely. They easily parted to let the dwarrow pass, sneaking glances at them. Finally, when she got to the front of the line, Dis was able to see what was happening.

Two hobbit women were standing near one of the stands. The one closest to Dis wore a dress that ended just below her knees, it was in a bright lemon color with lots of ruffles on the skirt and bodice. She had a huge hat on her head that looked vaguely like a flower bud. She wore a pastel yellow shawl over her corduroy green coat. An umbrella was clutched tightly in her hand. A look of mild annoyance was directed to the second woman who stood across her.

Dis glanced at her and instantly recognized her as the lass from the drawing that Kili had sent. Although, right now she looked quite different. Dis frowned as she took in Iribella’s appearance. Her blond, almost golden hair was tied up in a bun on top of her head, a few strands falling on her face. Several braids were skillfully woven into her hair, only slightly peeking out, almost completely hidden from the sight. Unlike the first hobbit, she wore jewelry. Small earrings were glinting on the sun, their small size and distance made it impossible for Dis to get a better look at them. A bracelet with wooden beads was on her left hand. Dis continued her observation.

Compared to the first hobbit, Iribella was dressed rather simple: a long-sleeved dark green tunic and short grey pants. Despite the fact that her clothes were quite loose Dis experienced eyes noticed that the lass was much thinner than she was supposed to be. She was leaning casually on a wooden cane. Dis quickly discovered the cause – a huge red burn encircling the lass’ ankle. It looked healed but Dis wasn’t a healer, so she would not be able to tell for sure. Finally, Dis squinted at Iribella’s face. Her cheeks were hollow, features sharp. In contrast to her unhealthily pale skin, the bags under her eyes looked almost black. Despite all this, her gaze was steady and calm as she listened to the hobbit with umbrella.

The first hobbit – ‘Missus ‘Belia’, Dis concluded – was saying something with an accentuated disgust on her face. Dis listened to her words:

“- look like a beggar. I understand that after spending so much time in the company of uncouth dwarves, you have forgotten your manners, but you are still the Master of Bag End - you must behave accordingly.” The woman’s tone was mild but her words were biting. Dis heard Gimli growl behind her.

Iribella did not look concerned. She tilted her head like a curious little bird and smiled. “Why, Lobelia, what are you saying? I behave in the best traditions of the house of Durin.” With these words, she plunged a delicate dagger that appeared out of nowhere in her hand into an apple lying on the counter. With a smooth move, she brought the fruit to her lips and took a bite without removing it from the knife. Then she grinned at the stunned hobbit in a very familiar way. Dis had seen this smirk far too many times. On her younger son’s face.

Meanwhile, Iribella continued talking, gesturing absently with her knife. “As for my looks, well, what could be more suitable than a pair of pants for a shopping trip?” She asked with an easy smile.

Lobelia pursed her chin. “Iribella, you’re a _lady_ from the Baggins’ family. You are disgracing our good name with such antics. And as that is not enough, you’re putting the whole Shire in danger with your lifestyle!” She accused, pointing her umbrella at Iribella. Dis took a small step forward, trying to get closer. “Since you came back here fifteen years ago our habitual life was over!” Lobelia exclaimed loudly and started listing: “Obscure characters scurry back and forth in the night, strange gatherings in the woods, sudden departures in the middle of the day. Never before have dwarves visited Hobbiton, but now they go here as if to their home, disturbing the peace and threatening decent hobbits!” Lobelia said, outraged. Several voices from the crowd expressed their agreement.

Iribella shook her head. “Lobelia, how and in whose company I spend my free time is absolutely none of the Shire’s business.” She held up her hand to stop Lobelia from speaking up. “Yes, I admit that several recent incidents have been linked to me, but for all that, there is no danger - direct or indirect - to the Shire.” She leveled a look at Lobelia and turned slightly so the crowd could hear better: “The dwarrow who were taken by the Rangers were just looking for one of their kin. They assumed that I could help them in this matter and were very upset to learn the opposite.” Lobelia scoffed.

“So upset that they decided to attack?” She asked venomously. Iribella nodded with a charming smile.

“Some dwarrow can be very emotional.” The lass told her with a serious look. “And the best way to let these emotions out is to spar.” She sounded so convincing, Dis almost believed her. “And Jor had generously offered them his services.”

“What about this burn?” Lobelia questioned suddenly. Iribella looked at her, a little bewildered.

“What about it?” She countered, pretending not to understand the question at all. Lobelia’s eye twitched for a moment before she visibly calmed herself down.

“This burn, your pallor, your constantly tired look – you are clearly not taking good care of yourself. I told you a year and a half ago that you could easily die on one of your outings. And not a month and a half ago you returned injured and did not improve since.” Dis didn’t like the sound of concern in Lobelia’s voice. It didn’t match her cold, calculating gaze. Iribella seemed to know that something was up, her stance shifted a bit to take weight off her burned leg. Lobelia gave a false smile. “Isn’t it hard for you to handle Bag End alone? Such a large smial requires constant maintenance, not to mention other responsibilities. And the taxes, oh, absolutely terrible. Especially now, when Dudo doesn’t do them.” Lobelia sighed in feigned sadness.

Iribella shook her head with a small laugh. “My, Lobelia, you needn’t worry so! I have quite a lot of helping hands these days. I’m sure I’ll survive until Dudo comes back.” She assured Lobelia with a slight smile on her lips.

Lobelia gritted her teeth. “Helping hands? Elves and dwarves, you mean! Who have no idea how to deal with hobbits’ affairs! No proper hobbit will ever allow something like that. Unless…” She stepped closer to Iribella, hands falling on her hips. Lobelia looked closely at Iribella’s face and narrowed her eyes. “Unless you are not a hobbit at all.” Iribella’s eyebrows flew up in surprise.

“And what I am in this case, may I ask?” She wondered, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice.

Lobelia scoffed. “An imposter or a changeling I do not care which.” She replied, scrunching her nose as if such small things were unworthy even of her thoughts. Iribella’s eyes immediately hardened. The hobbits dropped all pretense and were watching the scene unfold openly. Lobelia was elated. “And if you are really Iribella Baggins, then it will not be difficult to prove your identity. Just show us your _treoir chroí_.” Iribella did not react at the words but Dis heard Jórundur swear colorfully in Khudzul somewhere in the crowd. One look at him confirmed her suspicious – this whole situation was going to deteriorate pretty fast.

“I’m afraid it’s impossible.” Iribella replied, tone carefully polite. Lobelia’s eyes flashed with triumph.

“Of course it is! Because you are not a hobbit! I demand you to vacate the Bag End by the end of the day.” A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd. Hobbits were whispering, comparing information and arguing among themselves. Jórundur was quiet, seemingly at ease, but his right hand was curled over the hilt of a hidden dagger.

Iribella mutely shook her head. “I cannot show my _treoir chroí_ because I gave it to my soulmate.” A deafening silence fell over the Marketplace. Lobelia’s jaw dropped. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly a few times and finally squeaked:

“You- Wha- How-” She stuttered. Somehow regaining her composure in a few moments, Lobelia huffed. “So where’s your soulmate? Who are they? None of the hobbits mentioned to be your match.” The declaration gained attention of the gossiping hobbits. Iribella smiled, this time genuine.

“It’s not a surprise. My soulmate is not a hobbit. He is a dwarf.” There were loud exclamations from the crowd, some surprised, some annoyed, and some cheerful. Looking around, Dis noticed a rather elderly-looking hobbit, who was accepting money from other hobbits with a satisfied smile. He winked at Dis, catching her eye and returned to his task.

Lobelia’s gasp drew her attention back. “A dwarf?!” She said in such a squeamish tone, as if she was asking who had left so much mud on her doorstep. Lobelia scowled. “That I can believe. Only someone like Iribella could have managed to end up with some dirty ill-mannered dwarf for a soulmate.” She hasn’t finished talking but she had to jump back with an undignified yelp when Iribella was suddenly too close - mere inches from her.

“Now listen here,” Iribella’s voice was calm and serene but cold as ice, matching the look she was giving Lobelia, “you can tell whatever you want about me, frankly, I do not care,” Lobelia was ready to protest but Iribella did not give her a chance to do so, “but don’t you dare insult the dwarrow. You know nothing about them or they way of living. And your ‘biting remarks’ only show your ignorance, not your wit.” Iribella reprimanded harshly. She eased back, straightening up. “And just so you know, I would prefer the company of these dirty, ill-mannered dwarrow to yours without a second thought.”

Lobelia huffed. “Not surprising, considering your upbringing. Nonetheless, if you cannot confirm your identity, you have to go.” She demanded with a scowl. Iribella crossed her arms over her chest and smirked.

“Lobelia, dear Lobelia, I think you are forgetting something.” The lass sang teasingly. Lobelia narrowed her eyes.

“And what is it?” She bit out. Iribella smiled winningly.

“You have no power here. Or anywhere else, at least legally. Only Thain can decide what to do with me, my smial and the rest of my property.” Lobelia turned red from anger.

“What difference does it make? I’ll go to Thain, he’ll arrange a trial where your identity will not be confirmed either, so let’s save time, Thain is a busy hobbit, after all. Unlike you.” Lobelia jabbed. Iribella rolled her eyes.

“Well, let’s say we went to trial, my identity wasn’t confirmed, and I turned out to be an evil changeling.” She uttered the last two words using a silly tone in which children’s horror stories were usually told, much to the delight of the present children. “What do you think will happen next? Thain, in a sudden burst of generosity, will give you the Bag End and the title of Master?” Iribella rolled her eyes and leaned on the counter. “No, my dear, it will go to Drogo, per my instructions. He will be of age next week, so he will not even need a guardian.” She winked at someone in the crowd. Dis caught a glimpse of a young blushing hobbit with dark curly hair before he was swarmed by other hobbits.

“Your instructions can be challenged. How can we know for sure when exactly the real Iribella disappeared?” Lobelia argued. She looked around at the crowd for support. The hobbits glanced at each other uncertainly, not wanting to be dragged into this conversation. A sudden clap startled them.

Iribella had her hands clasped in front of her and a wicked smirk slowly edged its way on her face. “And we come to the most interesting part. If my will is challenged, then the fate of the Bag End will be decided according to my father’s will.” She looked at Lobelia with a sweet smile. “And you and I know very well that he left Bag End to his children.”

“So what? You will not count as Bungo’s child, it will not matter.” Iribella’s grin only grew at Lobelia’s statement. She put one hand theatrically over her heart and wiped away a nonexistent tear with the other.

“Indeed, it would not... But I was not talking about myself.” She paused for dramatic effect and pointed her head in the direction of the baker’s stall.

There stood a lone hobbit. He had short dark curly hair and was dressed much like the rest of the hobbits. He did not stand out, except for a striking resemblance to Iribella. He sheepishly waved to the crowd.

“Ugm, hello? I’m back?” He greeted uncertainly, trying to smile but was too nervous to actually do so.

For a few heartbeats nothing happened. Then, half of the hobbits promptly fainted.

“And you said I was a drama queen.” Iribella jested.

In the silence that followed, her brother’s hysterical chuckle seemed incredibly loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself, Lobelia just pushed her way into this chapter! So I decided to let her spit venom all around and see what happens)  
> Saradoc is Merry's father and currently he is only two, which is close to seven or eight for a dwarf.  
> Thranslations:  
> Khudzul  
> Iraknana’dith - Little cousin (female)  
> Iraknadad - Cousin (male)  
> Haban - Gem
> 
> Hobbitish  
> Treoir chroí - Heart guide


	2. Chapter two: In which everyone is shouting and Fili is tired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... terribly sorry for the delay. I just got stuck. You know, I kind of knew what I wanted to write and how, but I couldn’t just sit down and write it, every time I opened a document – just… stupor. There is practically no such thing with other works, except for one that I am currently working on.  
> Ah, but I did write this Chapter! Soooo... Enjoy)

Fili’s head was starting to throb from the constant shouts and yells. How uncle Thorin endured this sort of thing three times a week for several hours was the greatest mystery to him. The Prince sat at the table with a blank face as the king’s advisors squabbled with each other about restoring Dale. Fili ignored them as usual, since everything was already decided and they just did not like the decision, hence the arguing, focusing on the bond between him and Bell, trying to feel _anything_. But aside from a muffled feeling of annoyance he could not catch anything.

“-ince Fili?” A voice startled Fili out of his daze. He turned his head to look at one of Dain’s advisors whose name he did not remember. He was watching Fili with something resembling concern. But Fili knew better. He arched an eyebrow in silent question.

“Yes?” He asked calmly. The advisor frowned, glancing down at Fili’s hands. The prince followed his gaze and suppressed a sigh. He was rubbing his tattoo again. Not that any of these dwarrow knew about it. He dropped his hands down on the table and intertwined his fingers to prevent them from straying to his wrist.

“Are you feeling alright?” The advisor questioned. Fili gritted his teeth. This dwarf has the most irritating voice in the whole council. “Do you need a healer? Or maybe I can offer you an excel-” Fili stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“No need, please, continue.” He said, nodding back at the rest of the dwarrow, who fell silent once Fili spoke. They instantly returned to their shouting match and Fili was ready to bang his head on Dwalin’s warhammer.

Fili felt a small twinge of envy. Of all the members of the Company, only he, Kili and Balin were present at the meeting, the rest were busy in the Mountain. Bofur and Bifur were directing restoration work and if Fili’s memory was correct, currently they were working on clearing a blockage in one of the Eastern halls. Bombur has, unsurprisingly, taken over the Kitchens. Oin was splitting his time between the Healing Halls and Thorin who was yet to be let out of his room. And no mater how loud he complained, threatened and ordered, Oin did not budge. Hence, Dwalin was keeping Thorin’s company. More often than not, the two of them were looking over various documents, reports and petitions. Gloin was overseeing the restoration of Dale. Somehow, Dori ended up in charge of living quarters. Not only he decided who and which room will take, he helped to make them livable, so no one complained. Much. Ori all but buried himself in the Library and only Nori could drag him out of it. Those were the only times Nori was seen at all. Fili suspected that he was exploring the hidden passages Bell spoke about, as well as spied on everyone, given that every morning Fili found a detailed report about all suspicious personalities and actions that occurred the day before on the table in his room.

One of the advisors cleared his throat. “As I said, I think it’s worth suspending the search for the mercenary.” Fili stiffened slightly at the words, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Kili did the same. Balin showed no emotion, his face still content. Fili forced himself to relax and not react prematurely. After all, the advisor wasn’t finished yet. “It’s been a few months,” the dwarf said, “and no results. It seems unnecessary to continue to mindlessly spend already scarce resources.”

Fili found himself nodding in agreement. It was worth regrouping forces and discussing new strategies. He was about to voice his opinion then the other dwarf stood up, frowning. “Why not call it off completely? As far as I know, the burglar managed to escape and, in the process, they killed the kidnapper. Who else are we looking for?”

“It wasn’t just a kidnapper, Master Althi.” Kili said icily, glaring at the old dwarf. Fili frowned slightly. How lost in thought was he that _Kili_ had managed to remember the advisor’s name and he hadn’t? Meanwhile, Kili continued. “It was a bounty hunter. And he is far from the only one. And as long as there is a bounty on Bilbo’s head, one of the other hunters can try their luck and go after our burglar.” He stated firmly, staring the dwarf down. But Master Althi only scoffed.

“So? Tis not our problem.” He countered flippantly, looking around at other advisors. “The burglar fulfilled the contract and received the reward. That’s it. Whatever happens to the halfling after is not our concern.”

Fili sat very still. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reminding himself that they didn’t know everything. It was the Company’s unanimous decision not to tell more than necessary about their fourteenth member. So, most of the advisors only knew the basic facts – the burglar was of a different race, had saved the Company many times and that it was only thanks to him that members of the Royal family were alive at all, for which he was declared a Dwarf Friend. They also knew about the abduction. They did not tell anyone that Bell was actually a girl. And every time they spoke about her, the whole Company together avoided the use of pronouns for the most part, instead referring to her as ‘Master Baggins’ or ‘Burglar’. It was rather ridiculous, but Fili and Kili enjoyed it very much. They also did not utter a word about Holbytla. This was not information that they could share, it should be purely her decision.

Fili did not tell anyone about their courtship either. Partly because it was not their business (a voice sounding suspiciously like Bell’s grumbled about nosy busybodies in the back of his mind) and partly because he wanted to see how long it would take them to notice the courtship braid in his hair. He even pretended that he did not know about Nori’s betting pool. But still, they should have more respect for someone who helped return their home.

Kili looked downright murderous and ready to start shouting. Fili just could not afford another round of yelling so he held up his hand, effectively silencing everyone. “We heard you, Master Althi.” He started evenly. For some reason the dwarf’s face became smug and he smirked. Fili wanted to wipe it off his face with his fist. “However, Master Baggins is a valuable and beloved member of King Thorin’s Company. Without them, we could not have won the Mountain back, having perished at the very beginning of the journey.” Althi choked, instantly turning purple, and jumped to his feet.

“How can you say that, Your Highness? How can you compare a halfling and a dwarf?” He bristled, getting more worked up with each word. The others started murmuring among themselves, giving Master Althi sidelong glances. “Are you seriously telling me that this halfling has qualities that no dwarf has?”

Fili calmly met his furious gaze. “I do.” He said simply, rendering the dwarf speechless. Fili dismissed him for a time being and turned to face the rest of the dwarrow. “Master Baggins is a Hobbit. They have different views on life, different customs and other values. And as it turned out, it was exactly what we needed in our quest.” Fili slowly shifted his eyes from one advisor to the next one. “Besides, Master Baggins is very brave, witty, loyal and quite a talented warrior to boot.” He said with a small smirk. Kili snorted beside him. Fili returned to Althi. “Master Baggins saved us many times, sometimes to their own detriment.” He couldn’t help but shiver, remembering how Bell had fallen into the cliff with a sword in her stomach. He clenched his fist. “Master Baggins secured us a safe passage through Mirkwood and a firm alliance with King Thranduil and King Bard.” Fili pointed out, not that it meant much for some of the dwarrow. “And so, I don't want to hear any more such speeches addressed to Masters Gloin and Oin’s cousin.” Fili shared finally.

The murmurs turned into surprised exclamations and gasps. Each and every dwarf wanted to know what he meant. Fili sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew it was not the best idea to tell them, but they were bound to learn anyway. In addition, this will set the stage for Bell’s return. The one that the dwarf raised would be accepted much better. It’s another matter when they find out that this dwarf was married to an elf... Although many would have welcomed her with open arms just for her help in getting Erebor back, they would have been dissatisfied. So maybe this would smooth out the corners.

“Shazara!” Kili yelled finally, shutting the dwarrow. Fili gave him a curt grateful nod.

The advisor who proposed to suspend the search – Master Gestur or something – cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, but you said Master Baggins is a hobbit?” He asked in mild confusion. Fili decided that he liked him.

“Aye, Master Baggins is a Hobbit. But Master Baggins was adopted by a dwarf as a mere child.” Master Gestur nodded thoughtfully, brows furrowed.

“But by who? I know most of Masters Gloin and Oin relatives, none of them have any bairns other than their own.”

Fili’s lips curled up into a tiny smirk. “You would not have found out from them.”

Master Gestur raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Fili let his smile grow. “Aye. This dwarf had not been seen in the Blue Mountains for more than thirty years.” The other advisors moved closer, hanging on every word looking more like dwarflings than adults, so curious were they.

Master Gestur must have noticed Fili’s mirth. An answering smile danced in the corner of his mouth. “Thirty years, my, such a long time for Men.”

Fili nodded solemnly. “Indeed. Although, not for our kind.” He hummed wistfully.

“And where did he spend those thirty years?

“Oh, he visited lots of places.” Fili mused, leaning on the table. “Rohan, Minas Tirith, Rivendell, to name a few. He and his companions walked the length and breadth of Arda.”

Master Gestur tilted his head. “Companions? He traveled with his kin?”

Inside, Fili was grinning like a loon, but outside he kept a calm expression on his face. Kili, on the other hand, was smiling broadly, clearly understanding what his brother was getting at. Fili held back the urge to roll his eyes. “You can say that.” Fili answered evasively. “Tell me, honorable advisors, what do you know about Sentinels?”

Someone scoffed loudly. “Tis a mere legend. An old wife’s tale.”

Fili and Kili shared a mischievous glance. “They are not.” Kili announced loudly. “We’ve met them and know them.” The dwarrow’s voices rose again. Shouts, yells and even a few fists flew all over the room.

Fili held up his hand again, quieting them. “Prince Kili tells the truth. We do know them and have their permission to share some of their identities.”

Master Gestur spoke up: “Will my guess be far from the truth if I assume that Master Bilbo is one of them?”

Fili inclined his head forward a bit. “It will not.” He replied, smiling at the dwarf. “Master Baggins is known by the name Radar, and the dwarf is known as Hammer.”

“Does he have another name?” Someone shouted, clearly fed up with Fili’s roundabout way of sharing information with them.

“He does.” Fili said and paused. Bell would have been proud. “His name is Lord Jórundur of Erebor.” The look of surprise on the advisors’ faces was hilarious but Fili was not done. “Moreover, he and Master Baggins are also one of the stewards of Ghost Town.” Althi was gaping like a fish but Fili was not done yet. “And Lord Jórundur and the Sentinels will be returning with the caravan from the Blue Mountains.”

Everyone fell silent, not knowing how to react to this news. Eventually, Master Gestur hummed. “In that case, we should prepare the chambers for their arrival.” He looked at Fili. “Should we put them in the Guest Wing?” Fili shook his head.

“Prepare three rooms in the Royal Wing. Lord Jórundur will live with her husband.” Master Gestur nodded, writing the order down on a piece of parchment.

Master Althi finally snapped out of his stupor and exploded. “Who are they to be placed in the Royal Wing? Even Council members can’t go there!” Fili leveled him with a stern glare he saw Dwalin use countless times. Judging by Master Althi’s rapidly paling face he was successful in recreating it accordingly.

“Lord Jórundur is Masters Gloin and Oin cousin. Therefore, he is King Thorin’s cousin.” Fili slowly raised an eyebrow. “And you believe we should deny him a room in the Royal Wing?” Master Althi gulped and stuttered something. Fili shook his head slightly. “I think not. Is there anything else that needed to be addressed immediately?” He asked the rest of advisors. Silence. Fili nodded. “Then I declare the meeting postponed, you are dismissed for now. We will start again in twenty minutes.” He said and stood up swiftly, his stiff muscles aching.

However, he knew that his suffering was not over. Someone would come up with a question or to clarify something or tell Fili how well he was doing. Agrh. This kind of bootlickers were the worst. Fili turned his back to them so that only Kili could see his face, grimaced at his brother and forced a polite smile as he turned to face the advisors. He almost groaned out loud when he saw Master Hannin walking toward him with an oily smile that never failed to make Fili feel dirty. Master Hannin was from an old rich noble family and it was only because his ancestors sat on the Council of Erebor that he got this seat. Fili swore to himself that he would find a way to kick him out.

It wasn’t even that the dwarf was stupid or, like Master Althi, intolerant, on the contrary. He was quite intelligent and extremely polite. But he never expressed his opinion directly, always speaking ambiguously and agreeing with those with whom it was profitable for him and changing allies at the moment when it became clear that they were losing. That was not the behavior of a decent dwarf.

And, despite Fili’s attempts to close the subject, he stubbornly tried to encourage Fili and Kili to court his daughters. He didn’t say so outright but every conversation he had with Fili ended up being about how good his eldest daughter Kurth was and how talented his youngest daughter Urth was. Fili nodded politely when appropriate, complimented the pictures of both dwarrowdams and mentioned every time that they would make a very good match for one of the Lords’ children. And right now, feeling Bell’s rising annoyance, he really did not want to deal with the dwarf.

But when was life easy? Master Hannan had sidestepped the last dwarf in his path and was already greeting the princes: “Your Highnesses! I was hoping you could give me some of your time.” He told them with a greasy little smile. Fili found himself nodding back.

“Master Hannan.” Kili sighed loudly at Fili’s side. Fili tried his best not to mimic him. “What can we do for you?”

The dwarf’s smile widened. “Oh, I was merely wondering if we should bring up the marriage during the second part of our meeting?” A few dwarrow nearby moved closer, pretending to be busy with their own conversations. Fili found himself agreeing with Bell once again – dwarrow didn’t know how to be subtle. Well, with very few exceptions.

With an incredible effort of will Fili managed to keep her expression calm. “What marriage, Master Hannan?” He asked, pretending not to understand the implication. He also could not stop himself from a little jab. “Do you want to ask for the Royal family’s blessing for a second marriage?” He inquired, feigning interest. Master Hannan’s wife died during childbirth. Sadly, it was not uncommon. Most never married again. But some did. It was rare and most families tended to ask for a blessing from Royals, since they were considered the executors of Mahal’s will and their blessing indicated that Mahal had given his approval. It was mostly ceremonial, but some still did it.

Master Hannan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “On, no, Your Majesty. I am far to old for such deeds.” He joked. “No, I was talking about King Thorin.” He said, still smiling.

The statement knocked the ground out from under Fili’s feet. He hadn’t expected this. He managed to keep his face and posture calm and relaxed as he arched an eyebrow at the dwarf. “I was not aware that my uncle considered marrying someone.” He replied, desperately wishing that Balin would come and save him from this headache of a conversation. Master Hannan shook his head again.

“That’s the point, Your Highness. His Majesty and you almost died taking back Erebor.” He said sadly, looking down at his feet. Fili wanted to shout in his face that if he was not such a coward and had joined their quest or answered Dain’s call to arms, everything might have gone differently. “We would have been left without a King and heirs.” Master Hannan continued, a bit loudly, so everyone was able to hear him clearly. He glanced up at Fili with a grandfatherly smile. It was so fake, Fili wanted to roll his eyes. “So wouldn’t it be wise to think about possible options for securing the ruling line?” He asked.

Fili wanted to nail him to the floor with one of her knives. “Of course, Master Hannan, woes _do_ happen.” He admitted. “And yes, we could have lost my uncle.” He added a moment later. “But thanks to the efforts of the Company and the help of Kings Bard and Thranduil and Lord Dain we won – King Thorin is recovering, Erebor is being reconstructed, and my brother and I are in good health.” He looked at the dwarf. “Why think about the bad things?”

Master Hannan nodded in agreement. “You are certainly right, Your Highness, but wouldn’t it be better to be prepared if something happens?” He asked, turning to the other advisors. Some of them nodded, some frowned.

Fili fought not to rub his face. “What can happen, Master Hannan? Surely you are not implying that something might happen to our King in the near future?” He let his voice drop slightly, not enough to be threating but letting the warning be heard.

The advisor shook his head hurriedly. “No, no, of course not, Mahal forbid. It’s just…” He paused, seemingly unsure. If Fili did not know better, he would have believed him. “My bitter experience has taught me that misfortunes creep up on you when you least expect them.” He said, voice breaking a little. Fili almost groaned. What was wrong with that dwarf? Trying to manipulate him by bringing up his dead wife? Does he have no respect for her?

Fili closed his eyes briefly. “Master Hannan, there are healthy concerns and there is paranoia.” He gritted through closed teeth. “And there is a significant difference between them. Do you want us all to jump at every shadow in fear that it might be an enemy?” Before he could open his mouth, Fili pressed on: “The guards of the Royal family were chosen personally by the Captain of the Guard, who in turn is the King’s personal guard. They are the best from the best. I assure you, there is nothing to worry about.” Fili smiled a bit. “And should something happen, well, King Thorin has a very big shiny pointy stick with which he likes to stab people who annoy him.” He finished with a small smirk. Yeah, today he was missing Bell more than usual.

Master Hannan blinked at him rapidly, a little taken aback at this conclusion of his monologue. But he recovered quickly and smiled his damn smile again. “Oh, you just made my sleep easier, Your Majesty.” Fili really wanted to scream, Bell’s emotions echoed him, lurking in the back of his mind. “But still, I just realized that since King Thorin is not here, it would be useless to discuss his marriage.” Master Hannan said, shaking his head. “Oh, silly old me.” He chuckled. “So, we should probably consider some suitable matches for you, Your Majesties.” Fili started. That was rather bold of him. Not at all in his style. Was he getting desperate?

He slowly tilted his head to the side. “I think my brother and I are still too young to think about getting married.” Fili told him, trying to avoid continuing the conversation. But Master Hannan merely waved his hand dismissively.

“Nonsense.” He huffed. “I got married three years after I came of age. Besides, no one says you should get married right away.” He said insinuatingly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Courtship can last for years, and then the engagement and only after that the wedding. But still, young lads in your position need to start looking for a bride early to make sure that the right choice is made.” Master Hannan winked at Fili constitutionally. Like they had some kind of agreement no one knew about. Perhaps it was his goal, since their audience immediately started whispering.

Fili forced a smile. “It is a good thing, then, that Prince Kili is in courting already.” He stated casually and caused an uproar. Kili was staring at his with startled surprised eyes, unsure of what he should do. Fili shook his head, took a deep breath and whistled loudly. Silence fell immediately.

He cleared his throat. “Where was I, oh, right. Prince Kili is courting Lady Tauriel, the Captain of Mirkwood’s Guard and King Thranduil’s named daughter.” Fili listed.

“But she’s an elf!” Master Althi shouted, his grip on the back of his chair dangerously tight. Fili nodded lightly.

“Indeed, Lady Tauriel is an elf.” He confirmed. “She is also a favorite daughter of our valuable ally.” He pointed out, letting them work out an implication. No need for them to know that Tauriel was Kili’s One. Better let them believe that it was a political union. They would not be able to challenge it, no matter what, Thranduil was a very profitable ally and relations between their kingdoms definitely needed to be improved.

Master Hannan’s smile finally started losing some of its’ brightness. And now it looked a little pained, like his tooth was hurting. “I see. Such a great news.” He uttered, his tone lacking its’ previous enthusiasm. Fili mentally praised himself. “But it still leaves you, Your Majesty.” He pointed out, gaining back some of his confidence.

Smiling, Fili prayed silently that Nori would not kill him for this and said: “What do you mean, Master Hannan? Haven’t you noticed my braid?” He asked innocently and tilted his head to give the dwarf a better view. His courting braid was tucked neatly behind his ear but it was still visible, due to the green ribbon woven into it. Master Hannan’s mouth fell open.

“It’s, um, quite unusual.” He offered finally. Fili righted his head and gave the dwarf a pleasant smile.

“My chosen one and I decided to honor both our traditions.” He explained. Master Hannan looked like he ate something sour.

“And who is your chosen?” He asked and there was a gleam in his eyes that put Fili on edge. “Are they in Erebor now?” Nope, definitely not good.

Fili shook his head. “Unfortunately, my chosen had to return home. But she will arrive with the caravan.” He really did not want to tell them. And he felt Bell getting more and more angry and it distracted him so much he had nearly missed the next question:

“Why have not you announced your courtship yet?”

“We agreed to wait until she returns.” He answered, still trying to reach Bell and ask what the hell was happening on her end.

“And who is she?” This time the question came from Master Gestur and for once was genuine, no ulterior motive or subtext. Fili let a dreamy smile appear on his face.

“She is my One.” He replied simply. “And I am her Soulmate.”

The dwarrow murmured, confused. “What’s it?”

“Soulmates are the equivalent of our Ones for her people. They also have special indicators that help you find them. In our case, it is a bead.” Fili explained and gestured at his braid, feeling multiple pairs of eyes settle on it immediately. “And it is impossible to fake or deceive.” He added, preventing the question Master Hannan undoubtedly itched to ask.

“Her people were gifted the method by the Valar themselves.” Kili chimed in helpfully. Fili sent him a thankful smile. Kili grinned back.

“Still…” Master Hannan drew. “If she is of a different race it might add to the confusion. Are you certain she is your One? Surely you did not spend more than a few days with her, it might have been merely a passing fancy, confused for something more due to your inexperience in such matters.” He spoke affirmatively as if there could be no other course of events. Fili sighed inwardly.

“In fact, Master Hannan, we’ve spent the whole quest together.” He refuted with more cheer than he felt. Bell’s anger was reaching its’ peak, which did not help him contain his own irritation. “And the Company witnessed everything – from our first meeting to the start of our courtship. I’m sure they will be happy to tell you more.” He said sarcastically, although he was not sure if anyone other than Kili and Master Gestur caught it.

Master Hannan gasped slightly. “But how is that possible? There are no dams in King Thorin’s Company.” He insisted, like he was the one who founded it.

Fili raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “There is one, though she is not currently here.” He replied, letting the sentence hang between them.

Suddenly, Master Gestur started laughing softly. “Oh, Mahal, I can’t believe I did not realize it before.” He chuckled, wiping tears of mirth from his face with a handkerchief. Shaking his head, he looked at Fili. “I am looking forward to meeting that burglar of yours, Prince Fili.” He said, eyes sparkling with amusement. “If even half of the stories I heard about her is true and seeing that she was able to steal not one, but fourteen dwarrow’s hearts, that she must be quite a distinctive person.” He finished with a wink. Fili let out a small laugh.

“You have no idea, Master Gestur.” He grinned. But then Master Hannan opened his mouth.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, did I understand correctly? Your burglar is a female?” He asked, incredulous. Fili feigned puzzlement.

“Did someone claim otherwise?” He looked around the room, noting that most of the dwarrow looked rather put out, clearly berating themselves for not figuring it out before.

Master Hannan shook his head. “No, I just assumed… well, my mistake.” He laughed and then his eyes filled with concern as he looked at Fili. “But Your Majesty, a hobbit? Even adopted by a dwarf? Are you sure she will be able to perform all duties required from a Queen? I am afraid that she will not have enough time to learn everything she might need to know, hobbits live less than we do, after all, and they do not have Kings like we do, how can we expect her, a simple hobbit, to understand the importance of our traditions and ways?” He asked and Fili had a sneaking suspicion that he was studying hobbits in his free time, since he knew more than most of Arda’s population.

Fili offered the dwarf a smile. “You shall not worry so, Master Hannan. While it is true that Hobbits do not have Royalty, they do have a ruling family which acts not unlike stewards of Gondor, although they are called ‘Thain’. The current Thain is Bell’s uncle from her mother side and she received an appropriate education. As for the duties of the Queen, I don’t think there will be any problems. Bell was raised by a dwarf, so she knows most of our traditions, she also owns quite extensive properties that are occupied by a decent number of tenants who she looks after and they, in turn pay her. She is quite well-versed in how to run a business or conduct a political conversation. She was able to convince Kings Thranduil and Thorin if not to reconcile, then to behave civilly in each other’s company, after all.” He said with a chuckle. A few dwarrow snorted, some laughed outright.

Master Hannan’s eye started twitching. “I see. But still, you said she was adopted by Lord Jórundur, correct?” He waited until Fili nodded. “How did she get an education? There is a discrepancy. Or you want me to believe that someone like Lord Jórundur would be willing to live in the Shire?” Fili honestly thought his eyes would fell off if he had to suppress an eyeroll one more time.

“People change, Master Hannan.” He answered sagely. “But you are correct, Lord Jórundur did not settle in the Shire. He and Bell spent several years travelling across the Arda, with an occasional stop in Hobbiton. Bell is a quick learner, it was enough.”

“And yet, Your Majesty, consider how it will be received by your subjects?” Master Hannan tried to argue. “A hobbit from nowhere, even rich but still an outsider. I can understand she-elf, it’s politically advantageous, but what will bring the marriage to a hobbit?” He desperately tried to change Fili’s decision.

Before Fili could answer, a voice boomed from the direction of the tent’s entrance.

“If you want to keep your head on your shoulders, you will stop saying such things about Lady Bél.” Fili turned his head just in time to watch Lord Hjalti limp inside the tent with a scowl on his face. “You should be damn happy she decided to give that lad a chance. Do you even realize how lucky you are?” He asked, glaring the advisors down. He walked inside slowly and stopped beside Fili, gripping his shoulder. “That lass can finish off a Warg pack in less than five minutes. She is a born leader and successfully made our Town thrive.” He glowered at the dwarrow again. “And then she joined the quest to reclaim our lost home. Our home, not hers. But she still had chosen to help without a second thought, a young lass, while you, seasoned warriors with countless wars under your belt hid behind your wives’ skirts.” He spat on the floor in exasperation. “And now you dare to make claims against her without really knowing anything about her?” Hjalti shook his head. “Even looking at you is disgusting.” Fili seized that moment to greet their guest.

“Lord Hjalti.” He said, bowing. The dwarf returned the gesture with an amused huff.

“Yer Majesty.” He muttered. “Glad ta see you did not become dragon’s food.” He snarked. Fili snorted.

“It’s good to see you too. But what brings you here?” Hjalti gave him a look of disbelief.

“I told that imp you call uncle that we will come. And here we are.” He waved his hand toward the tent’s entrance and Fili saw Ísakur's head peeking in while Yngva was distracted by a sweet in her hand. His eyebrows rose on their own accord as he took in the sheer size of the crowd there.

“The whole Town came?” He murmured. Hjalti nodded, somewhat cheerfully.

“Aye, even Men came. They want ta speak to the King, aske him to let them live an Erebor.” He said, ignoring the gasps his words caused. “And I would also like to have a chat with you lot about what the heck happened here and who let Bell get kidnapped.” He snapped and Just like that Fili’s irritation was back in full force.

He was about to reply when a sharp intake of breath and a prickling sensation on his cheek made him pause. It was a familiar sensation and Fili closed his eyes in defeat. A couple of tattoos appeared on his body since he was separated from Bell. Mostly flowers but on one memorable occasion to everyone’s amusement, a spoon was drawn on the inside of Fili’s forearm. And it was the only thing he certainly did not want the advisors to know about… It was like the Valar was laughing at him.

He glanced at Kili, who was staring at his cheek in a mix of fascination and mind bafflement and asked: “What’s it this time?”

“Ummm… I’m not sure?” Kili said hesitantly. He tilted his head and squinted. “It looks like a… um...” He trailed off, searching for an approximate word. Suddenly he lit up. “Oh, I know! remember the book of fairy tails Amad used to read us?” Fili nodded, narrowing his eyes at his far too happy brother. Kili clapped his hands and bounced slightly. “It looks like a tornado!” He said, giddy. “And it’s moving too! It’s swirling and flying all over your cheek an- Woah…” He gasped. “It even flashes lightning!” Fili just closed his eyes and sighed as the advisors started shouting again. It was going to be a looong meeting.

“SHAZARA!” He bellowed loudly and stared angrily at the dwarrow in the tent. “Now, as we all are calm, please, let me explain before you start asking questions.” Fili said but of course no one listened to him.

“How is it possible? I thought it was only a legend.” Someone exclaimed.

“Well, today’s meeting is full of surprises and new discoveries.” Fili drawled through gritted teeth tartly. He rubbed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. Screw this. “This is one of the abilities I received after finding my One. Our feelings and emotions manifest into a drawing on our skin, letting us know what the other is feeling.”

“And what does this tell you?” Master Hannan asked, eyeing Fili’s cheek with a frown.

“That she is pissed as hell.” He replied icily, folding his arms behind his back.

Master Gestur stroke his beard wistfully. “So the legend of Durin’s wife is true.” He stated. “Shall we assume that Lady Bell is of the same race?” Fili nodded tiredly. The cat was out of the bag, so… Master Gestur hummed and then smiled gently. “Your match was forged by Mahal and the Green Lady themselves!” He cried out brightly. “This undoubtedly means that a blessed era awaits us!” He cheered and at first just a few dwarrow joined him, then the whole tent was shouting. Fili just tiredly slumped into his seat and dropped his head into his hands with a groan. How he hated Council meetings…

***

Later, when Kili recounted their meeting, Thorin laughed so hard he almost cracked another rib. Even after he calmed, he would take one look at Fili’s face there the tattoo was still visible and start smiling. But when he heard about Hannan’s attempt to marry the boys off to his daughters he was furious. More so when Kili cheerfully told him that the Council would search a spouse for him too.

“They want me to marry? Fine.” He spat out, sitting up in one fluid motion. “DWALIN!” He yelled. The guard jumped out of the chair he was dozing in, axe out and ready to face the threat.

“What?” Dwalin asked, watching Thorin move around the room, getting dressed. He caught a fine coat which was thrown his way in one hand and raised an eyebrow. “Did he get bitten by a rapid warg?” He asked Kili.

“Put it on, we are getting married.” Thorin said hopping into his trousers. Dwalin’s second eyebrow rose to join the first one.

“You might be a King but I’m not that easy. Buy me a drink first and then we’ll talk.” He grumbled but obediently shrugged the coat on. “Who are we pissing off this time?” He wondered conversationally.

“The Council.” Thorin replied from the depth of his closet. Dwalin’s head snapped up.

“Yer should’ve started with that.” He muttered, grabbing his warhammer and slinging it on his back. He moved toward the doors and opened them just in time for Thorin to storm through. Dwalin walked out and shut it firmly. Kili stayed in the room, mouth hanging open. Then he shot up and with a cry: “Wait! Amad will kill you when she hears she missed it!” And rushed out to catch the pair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly hope I'll post in two weeks, really. If not, well... blame the wizard. I do.


End file.
